


Our Daughter

by brynnzie



Category: GOT7
Genre: Domestic, I tried to be funny, M/M, Markjin, Marriage, coco!, lots of attempted fluff, some smut in the later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6275200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brynnzie/pseuds/brynnzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jinyoung hated it.</p><p>"He hated how comforting Mark’s laugh sounded to him, his adorable high-pitched laughter laced with a hearty rumble.</p><p>He hated how Mark’s smile was so dazzling, that it sent butterflies escaping from the pit of his stomach.</p><p>Most of all, he hated how his mind knew he should be annoyed that Mark was mocking him, but his heart overpowered his senses, and he felt dizzy from the beauty of the man sitting in front of him."</p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p>Mark was always the dominant one in their relationship, and he always got what he wanted.<br/>Jinyoung, on the other hand, felt that it was time he got his turn.</p><p>This time, Mark got a dog when Jinyoung wanted a daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted on aff

“Hey babe,” Mark whispered, snuggling his face into Jinyoung’s neck as he wrapped his arms around him. “What’s for dinner?”

 

Jinyoung shuddered as the deep voice behind him sent vibrations down his spine. A pair of soft lips brushed against the back of his neck tenderly, and he could feel the sides of them slowly lifting into a smile before they pressed, slowly and gently, onto his warm skin.

 

“Soup, your favourite,” he breathed, heart fluttering as the man behind him released the longing kiss and loosened his embrace to hold him firmly at his hips. It had almost been two years of marriage, just days to their anniversary, and more than seven years since they got together. Yet, until today, Mark’s touches still did magic to Jinyoung.

 

“That’s all? I didn’t marry you to starve,” Mark laughed, and Jinyoung dropped the ladle into the boiling pot of cream of mushroom to turn around and shoot a glare at his husband. “Mark fucking Tuan,” he growled, “you ungrateful piece of –”

 

_Shit._

 

He was cut off by Mark’s lips sealing his, which knocked the wind right out of his lungs. Mark tasted of coffee with a hint of mint – probably from chewing gum after his afternoon latte – and he kissed with delicate movement, like the act was an art and he was a master of it.

 

There was always something about his kisses that sucked the soul out of Jinyoung’s body. Perhaps it was how they were effortlessly sensual, from the way his grip on Jinyoung tightened as he leaned in, and from the way he took the kisses slow and gentle, like they were fragile, precious. Like every kiss was their first kiss.

 

In simple terms, Mark was a  _great_  kisser, and Jinyoung had a  _great_  problem with that.

 

“Mm,” Mark hummed as he pulled away from the kiss with an audible smack. He smiled, gaze flickering from Jinyoung’s lips to his eyes. “Just kidding, darling. I could smell the pizza in the oven from our room. Thank you for making dinner.” He then leaned in again to peck the younger’s forehead, before walking away to set the dining table.

 

“You’re welcome,” Jinyoung sighed, picking up the ladle drowned in his soup. It was a great problem, because he was defenseless against his kisses, and he always fell for his sweet words. Jaebum said he was blinded by love, and Jackson often mocked him for being a complete fool for Mark. He never denied, for he knew they were right. Until the day he figured out the solution to resist Mark’s lips, Mark was in total control.

 

Jinyoung trained his eyes on the bowl of soup he scooped up for Mark, watching the thick liquid slosh dangerously up the edges of the bowl as he trod, as steadily as he could, towards the table.  _Argh, should have bought that pair of $9.50 oven gloves in the mart last Saturday_ , he chided himself internally as he bit his bottom lip in an attempt to suppress his screams of pain from the heat of the piping hot soup.

 

“Let me get that.” Jinyoung felt instant relief as in a split second, the bowl was taken out of his hands and expertly carried to the table. “You should have bought that pair of $9.50 oven gloves in the mart last Saturday,” Mark advised while he turned back to Jinyoung, holding his waist as he sat him down on the chair beside him.

 

_How in the world did he?_

 

Jinyoung stared at Mark in awe for a moment, before snapping out of his daze when Mark dove straight in for the soup. He opened his mouth to warn him not to scald his tongue but before any words could form, Mark looked up at him and said, “I know, it’s hot.”

 

“Stop it, Mark,” Jinyoung snapped, and Mark’s serene expression contorted into a frown. He put his spoon down gingerly, careful not to clink it against the porcelain bowl, then raised his head to face Jinyoung, eye to eye. “Jinyoung ah, did I do something wrong? If I did, I really didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry if I did something…” His voice trailed off in stammers when he noticed how Jinyoung’s death glare was unmoving and never softened.

 

“Stop reading my mind and stop saying everything I want to say! You have no rights to steal my thoughts!” Jinyoung blurted, face red from his sudden outburst. _That sounded so… stupid._  He slapped himself mentally, and squeezed his eyes in sheer embarrassment. When he finally found courage to open them again, the first thing he saw was Mark gradually turning red as he bit his lower lip. He was clearly amused, his body trembling, at the verge of convulsing with laughter.

 

“It’s not funny,” Jinyoung mumbled and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“Of course it’s not,” Mark managed to reply behind stifled laughter. “I just know you too well,” he crooned. “I can’t help that I love you too much.”

 

_Ugh. Him and his way with words!_

 

Forcing his facial muscles into a sneer, Jinyoung looked away. Mark had had his way for the past hundred times (or more, he had lost count), and Jinyoung wanted to change that. In fact, the last time he remembered when he was in control was during their wedding day, simply because Mark couldn’t care less about whether roses or calla lilies lined their wedding aisle.  _“It’s really up to you, babe. You’re the man in our relationship. You make the decisions, remember?”_ He had said, before giving a smile that just seemed so genuinely sweet with the right touch of shyness that melted Jinyoung right down to the floor.

 

Well, Mark Tuan  _freaking_  lied. Man in the relationship? Him? Park Jinyoung? If he heard that now, he would scoff. He should have learnt his idioms better – what did his middle school teacher say? Do not judge a book by its cover? More like  _“never marry a baby-faced, doe-eyed and pouty boy who claims to be indecisive, dependent and shy because even though he looks cute as fuck and is seemingly quiet he is probably going to turn into a beast in bed and play with your damn feelings by pulling out the I-love-you-so-much card and kissing unnecessarily well”._

 

No, it was not that he felt emasculated – that’d be ridiculous. He _probably_  did not mind that Mark was taking the lead in their relationship; he just didn’t particularly like how Mark could read him like an open book when he couldn’t do the same to him. Did he not know his husband well enough? How was it that he was a slave to Mark’s every word and touch, but not vice-versa? Was he even good enough for him?

 

_Well, at the very least, Mark should give me a chance to speak my mind and not –_

 

“Okay then,” Mark sighed, interrupting Jinyoung’s thoughts. “How about I keep my mouth shut and let you say whatever you want for the rest of dinner?”

 

 _There he goes again._ Jinyoung’s jaw slackened; he couldn’t believe it. Feeling the weight of Mark’s expecting stare, he rummaged his mind for something  _– anything_ , to back his stance. “W-well, I f-feel that –” he stuttered, eyes darting everywhere but on Mark.

 

“Feel that?” Mark prompted.

 

“That uh… You see, there’s this thing I uh – Oh heck! There’s nothing! Nothing, okay?”

 

_Way to go, Jinyoung, so much for getting in control._

 

Mark chuckled, smiling endearingly at him, and Jinyoung  _hated_  it. He hated how comforting Mark’s laugh sounded to him, his adorable high-pitched laughter laced with a hearty rumble. He hated how Mark’s smile was so dazzling, that it sent butterflies escaping from the pit of his stomach. Most of all, he hated how his mind knew he should be annoyed that Mark was mocking him, but his heart overpowered his senses, and he felt dizzy from the beauty of the man sitting in front of him.

 

“You’re so cute,” Mark gushed. He leaned towards Jinyoung and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, causing him to flush a rosy pink. Flustered and embarrassed, Jinyoung blinked his eyes repeatedly and shifted his focus to his dinner. He almost swept his cutlery down the table in his haste, the metal screeching noisily against the glass surface. “Whatever,” he croaked. “J-just eat your dinner.”

 

“But I’m already full from looking at you.”

 

Jinyoung gulped.

 

“I could do with some  _dessert_ , though.”

 

_Oh… fuck._

 

The next thing he knew, he was sitting on the kitchen counter with Mark’s arms locking him against the wall, and Mark was kissing him.

 

Jinyoung’s heart almost jumped out from his throat when Mark’s lips come into contact with his. His eyes widened and he stared, unblinking, still mildly surprised despite the fact that he knew it was coming. He should have already gotten used to Mark’s sudden attacks, but he hadn’t. For what felt like hours, he sat, with fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white, the sound of his heart vigorously pounding ringing in his ears.

Mark had his eyes closed, but slowly opened them when he sensed Jinyoung staring at him. He pulled back slightly, parting their lips, and looked into his eyes. They were beautiful. Black orbs so shiny, and so dark that looking into them felt like gazing into an endless depth of ink and emotions. His pupils were slightly dilated, and his eyes quivering as he breathed deeply, making them look even more magical, intriguing,  _tempting_.

Mark moved his hands away from the counter to hold Jinyoung’s waist, his thumb sneaking under the shirt to brush lightly across his bare skin, eliciting a gasp. Leaning forward so that his forehead pressed against Jinyoung’s, he gazed into his anxious eyes and whispered, “close your eyes, silly.”

And Jinyoung did. His eyes fluttered shut and in the darkness, he saw light exploding.

He let Mark nibble on his lower lip while he tried to recover from the shock through breathless pants. It felt different this time; the kiss they shared was more aggressive, more urgent, and more needy. A jolt of electricity ran down Jinyoung’s spine when Mark’s warm hands slid up his back, fingers digging into his skin. That was it. Whatever logic and cool detachment Jinyoung was trying to feign disappeared with the heat between them, and he started kissing back.

Mark felt his response and picked up the pace. Jinyoung hardly had a moment to react before Mark pressed his tongue to the seam of his lips and delved inside his mouth. Letting out a soft moan, he lifted his arms to wrap them around Mark’s neck, pulling him closer.

It didn’t feel like fireworks or sparks; it was better – the wave of warmth filling him up as his nerves responded to every touch. Every part of his body was saturated with love.

_Forget about taking control. That can wait till another day._

“Bedroom?” Mark asked between kisses, leaving Jinyoung’s lips to trail down his neck instead, causing the latter to throw back his head in pleasure.

“Bedroom.” Jinyoung panted, wasting no time by latching himself onto Mark, legs wrapped around his waist. Mark picked him up and pulled his head down to enclose his lips with another searing kiss while he headed towards the bedroom, leaving their unfinished dinner behind.

 

~~~~~

 

Jinyoung shifted, as quietly as he could, so he was sitting comfortably against the headboard of the bed. Mark was still in deep slumber, his bare chest rising and falling slightly as he breathed.

 

Carefully, he lifted his hand to touch his partner’s face, but stopped a millimeter away from contact. His fingertips hovered over the pretty face, tracing the shape of it before inching closer to his plump, soft lips. They were slightly parted, still moist despite being exposed overnight, the tint of pink matching the soft glow of his skin perfectly.

 

Jinyoung let out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He did not mean to stare (he tried to ignore the fact that they were both naked), but he could not help but be drawn in by the serenity plastered across his husband’s beautiful face.  _Well done, God, for creating this fine piece of art._

 

Jinyoung would have continued his little sleep-watching session if not for the embarrassingly loud growl from his stomach. He blushed instantly, anxious eyes darting to the sleeping figure to check for any response – none, thankfully. Relaxing his stiff shoulders, Jinyoung leaned back. He stared blankly at the oscillating ceiling fan, letting the distant buzzing sound draw out his thoughts.

 

No doubt he enjoyed the night before – Mark was  _really_ skillful – but the fact that he failed to take control irritated him greatly. He could not even handle himself and contain his raging hormones, and he was expecting to secure some form of dominance over Mark – who was he kidding? He turned to look at his partner and mumbled under his breath. “Why do you have to be like this?”

 

“Like what?”

 

Jinyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “Come on, you know what I mean!  _Too_  irresisti–”  _Wait a minute._ Jinyoung looked down at his lap and found himself staring straight at Mark, who was wide-awake, large eyes blinking innocently at him. He gulped.

 

“Irresisti-what?” Mark prodded Jinyoung with his forehead, his voice shaking as though he was suppressing a giggle.

 

“Oh lord, Mark!” Jinyoung exclaimed as pink crept up his neck and face. He hurriedly pushed Mark aside and pulled the blanket up to his chin before fleeing to the other end of the bed and curling into a ball of embarrassment. “S-s-since when were you awake?”

 

“Since your stomach decided to provide morning call services,” the elder chuckled, tilting his head as he gazed lovingly at the tuff of jet-black hair poking out of the blanket bundle. Jinyoung responded with a muffled groan and he laughed as he crept closer to him. Locating the position of his ears under the cloth, Mark leaned closer and whispered. “Hey Jinyoung, care to share the blanket? It’s a little chilly today, I don’t think my bare skin can take it…”

 

Jinyoung shouldn’t have decided to peek. He should have retreated to the safety of his blanket when the alarms went off in his head, but he didn’t, and it was a  _terrible_ decision. As soon as his brain registered that Mark was kneeling on the bed in complete naked glory beside him, his heart raced to become far from reach in a mere second. He lost it, once again.

 

Mark didn’t need further prompting. Letting out an excited giggle, he dove into the sheets and snuggled against Jinyoung, who froze upon contact. He wrapped his arms around the younger, but frowned when he felt no response. “What’s wrong?”

 

“N-nothing.”

 

Mark sighed, then turned Jinyoung around such that they were facing each other, eye to eye. “Don’t even try to lie to me, I know you better than you know yourself. Come on, what’s wrong?”

 

“Describe me,” Jinyoung huffed, earning the raise of an eyebrow from Mark. “Just do it, in three words?” He gave his best puppy look, blinking so many times he felt his eyelashes might have fallen off. He wanted to hear with his very own ears, whether he had the same lethal effect on Mark as the latter had on him.

 

“What’s this for? Are you alright?” Mark frowned, mildly perplexed at the situation. Seeing how Jinyoung wasn’t giving up, he decided to just give in and play along with whatever ridiculous game he was holding up. “Uhm, three words… Park-Jin-Young?”

 

Mark almost exploded with laughter when he saw Jinyoung’s eyes widen in disbelief. “What? You said to describe you in three words!” He teased, and was responded with a resounding shout of protest. He lifted his arms in the air, pretending to surrender to Jinyoung’s wrath. “I’m sorry!” He shrieked when the younger glared at him. “I meant Tuan Jin Young! Not Park! Tuan!”

 

“Be serious!” Jinyoung whined helplessly, as Mark burst into fits of loud laughter. He pressed his lips together, determined, and ordered (or at least he tried to), “in three  _adjectives_!”

 

As soon as Mark’s laughter died down, his huge grin fell slightly, into a small smile as warm as his gaze. He felt like the luckiest man alive to have married Jinyoung. He couldn’t have asked for more. “Three adjectives aren’t enough,” he began, pulling his lover closer to him. “You are worth more than three words.”

 

Jinyoung’s shoulders visibly relaxed upon hearing that. If his heart did not flutter and his brain stayed resolute after such sweet words, it wouldn’t have been possible that he was human. He gave up,  _again._

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jinyoung stirred from his sleep as he registered the faint sounds coming from the television, rubbing his bleary eyes as he sat up and yawned. He blinked mindlessly at the curtains swaying in the breeze, squinting at the blinding sunlight peeking through the drapes occasionally. _What time is it?_ He looked behind him at the clock, which ticking seemed to grow louder as the last feelings of drowsiness lifted from him – it was close to noon.

 

At that moment, he recalled the unsuccessful movie marathon he and Mark planned to enjoy the last night. They were excited, having prepared all the _X-Men_ movies and a fresh bowl of buttered popcorn, ready for some thrill, action, and lots of cuddling. Though, somewhere in the middle of the first movie, he had fallen asleep. Mark must have been disappointed, but not as much as Jinyoung himself as he was _really_ looking forward to some Wolverine action.

 

He sighed, then turned his attention to the television once again. It was on cable channel instead, specifically, _The Return of Superman._ Jinyoung’s expression brightened almost instantaneously. He loves children – babies, toddlers, young teens… Anything less than a grown adult and he would feel limitless affection towards them, accompanying a strong urge to take care of them.

 

In fact, since he was young, his dream was to have a big, happy family. The more kids, the better. It would be beyond _awesome_ if his grandchildren multiply by twofold.

 

Of course, he had other dreams as a child. He had once wanted to be a lawyer, then soon realised that it would be near impossible given his minimal talent in winning arguments (he lost to Jackson within a mere ten seconds while fighting over a cookie when they were ten). For a brief period of time, he also dreamt of being a singer. However, his parents, who were unsupportive of an “unstable” job, quickly dismissed it.

 

The only aspiration that stayed with him until today was the dream to have a house full of his own children. It used to bother him that he could not have biological children with Mark – to be fair, he had not known he could be attracted to guys, Mark was really the _only_ exception – but he got over it soon enough. Yet, until today, he deliberately left the huge wall space above their mantelpiece empty, for hopes that one day, a beautiful family photo would adorn it. He had never given up on that dream, or even entertained the thought of doing so.

 

“Awake?” A familiar deep voice broke the silence. Before Jinyoung could turn around, the owner of the voice plopped down on the couch beside him with freshly brewed coffee in his hand. “There, have some coffee, Jinyoungie.” His offer, however, was met with silence.

 

“Hello? Earth to Jinyoung?” Mark waved his hands in front of Jinyoung, half amused at the contorted, confused expression he was having.

 

“W-why are you at home? Don’t you have work?” Jinyoung asked.

 

Mark laughed softly. “I took leave,” he informed as he took his lover’s hand and made him hold the cup of coffee. “Have you forgotten? Kylie and Leila are coming over today.” Jinyoung’s mouth shaped into a silent ‘o’, but after the information truly settled in, his eyes widened in panic. “Oh my goodness! Mark!” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t you remind me? What do I need to prepare? I didn’t even cook anything! Oh my god, when are they coming?!”

“Woah there, careful with the coffee!” Mark warned. Thank goodness for his quick reflexes, or someone would have definitely gotten scalded from Jinyoung’s ridiculous arm flailing action. “Relax!” he chuckled. Jinyoung’s actions always made him laugh, and it was exactly this that made Mark fall for him – a flaming Cupid’s arrow he couldn’t have escaped. “We’re going out babe. We promised K and L Korean barbeque and a trip to the pet store.”

 

“Did we?” Jinyoung narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You know I’m not a big fan of Korean barbeque and you _also_ know that dogs hate me. And why don’t I remember agreeing to doing these things I don’t like?”

 

Mark blinked his eyes innocently and gave his best pout, bringing his voice up by three pitches as he wrapped his arms around Jinyoung’s waist and cuddled against him. “Jinyoungieeeee~ Come on baby. One for all and all for one, am I right? We’re married! We’re basically one person.”

 

Jinyoung groaned inwardly. He was literally _dying_ just trying to resist Mark’s aegyo but it was obviously not working. His brain said _“no”_ , yet his heart was waving pompoms and screaming _“HELL YEAH!”_

 

“Okay, fine. It was my fault for agreeing to those.” Mark admitted with a huff, then continued. “But just this once? For cute Kylie and adorable Leila? _Pleaseeeeeeee_ ~”

 

Jinyoung could only pray and thank the gods that he was not from Ancient Greece. He was lucky enough that he wouldn’t be pathetically dying in a terrible shipwreck because of a particular Siren named Mark. “Fine,” he mumbled, so soft it was barely audible; but Mark caught it without fail. A dramatic fist-punch into the air was followed by lots of eye-rolling from Jinyoung, and after some more bickering, the couple settled in each other’s arms, staring straight ahead at the television.

 

“You were watching this?” Jinyoung asked, almost excitedly. He didn’t know Mark had a thing for babies – he never showed any interest – else he would have discussed having their own…

 

“Yeah,” Mark said, interrupting Jinyoung’s thoughts.

 

 _Yeah? That’s it? No enthusiastic gushing over the babies?_ Jinyoung pursed his lips, disappointed. “Why? I’ve never seen you watching this before.”

 

“Hmm,” the older pondered for a while, mindlessly twirling the loose thread hanging from Jinyoung’s shirt with his long, slender fingers. “Didn’t want you to miss the movie. And I wanted to see what the big deal is about this show.”

 

“And?” Jinyoung prompted.

 

“It’s alright.” Mark replied and yawned. Before Jinyoung could say anything, he stood up and shuffled away. “I’ll get our clothes ready,” he said.

 

 _Just… alright? And he yawned?_ Bewildered at the lack of enthusiasm Mark had towards these unworldly, adorable, squeal-inducing babies, Jinyoung shook his head and sighed. Perhaps, it wasn’t time yet.

 

~~~~~

 

 _You’re one lucky man, Mark._ Yes, Jinyoung knew he was a troublesome man with major moodswings. Be that as it may, he was generous, and extremely understanding when it came to having guests – okay cut that, the reason why his mood lightened was because he was showered by the lovely presence of beautiful young ones. He was beaming inside out with Leila in one arm and Kylie holding his other. Whatever made him upset earlier on, he had completely forgotten with the bubbling laughter of the children.

 

“What do you want to eat, Kylie?” Jinyoung asked as he gazed endearingly at the little girl. Kylie is truly a sweet and gentle child, as cliché as it sounds. Her eyes shape into crescents when she grins, and her soft, dark hair frames her delicate features nicely. Leila, on the other hand, is a curious little one; her eyes sparkle in hues of brown like sweet chocolate as she looked around inquisitively.

 

“K-B-B-Q!” she articulated, letter by letter, her voice quivering with an inkling of excitement. Her sister shortly followed, exclaiming in gibberish, which Jinyoung assumed was unquestionable agreement.

 

“Alright! Let’s go!” The way Jinyoung said it would lead others into believing he was about to eat his favourite food; and that is the power of children. Watching his favourite three people walk away with light footsteps, Mark smiled, and hurriedly jogged forward to join them.

 

Within minutes, they were seated in a cozy corner of the restaurant, the saliva-inducing aroma of fresh meat sizzling against the fire, smoky yet addictive, settled in with their stomachs growling in hunger. The restaurant reviews did not lie, for the food was quickly served, to the children’s delight.

 

Mark only sighed in contentment as he watched his loved ones – Jinyoung blowing on the hot food before spoon-feeding Leila while gesturing to Kylie for her to wait for her turn. He was indeed a lucky man, as Jinyoung always said in mild annoyance whenever he agreed to his requests (it was always fun to watch Jinyoung pout whenever he felt annoyed, too cute). Mark knew it well, perhaps even better than Jinyoung himself, who never seemed tired to stop harping on that fact. However, he never really expressed his gratitude.

 

He wouldn’t say he was bad at words. He could have gotten a doctorate in teasing Jinyoung if there was ever such a course. Sweet talk? No problem too. Jackson had always complained that his conversation with Jinyoung is the _World’s No.1 Cause of Toothaches and Diabetes_. Mark was also quick to apologise whenever he did something wrong, and Jinyoung quick to forgive.

 

It all worked out perfectly, and they were a happy couple. But every single day, every time Mark was free enough to let his mind run, he would regret not being able to express his gratitude with words. It was simple enough to thank his husband for making dinner, for doing the housework, for fetching him home. It was also easy to “thank” him with a teasing tone. However, when it came to sincerely expressing his gratitude for the emotional value of Jinyoung’s actions, the cat always got his tongue.

 

He remembered the time when he was down with a high fever and found no energy to move at all. He had spent all day curled up under three thick blankets – the extra two a result of Jinyoung shamelessly knocking on the doors of their neighbours’ apartments past midnight to beg for extra blankets – watching the younger rush in and out of the room with freshly cloth-wrapped ice packs, taking note to replace the damp towels with dry ones when the ice melted. Despite being in a constant state of frantic turmoil, he would always remember to slow down when he reached the bed and place the ice pack on Mark’s forehead with utmost gentleness.

 

But all he did was tease Jinyoung when the neighbours showed up at the doorstep with dark expressions.

 

When the bedroom door closed behind Jinyoung, Mark would hear him anxiously pacing and cursing at the _damn virus for not going away._ Yet, when he entered the room again, he would whisper endearingly that everything was going to be alright while stroking Mark’s cold hands to warmth. Mark had felt more secure with Jinyoung’s assuring words and calm demeanor, and he was grateful for him putting up a strong front.

 

But he never did repay his debt of gratitude to Jinyoung, and life went on as usual after he recovered. And this was only one instance out of countless ones.

 

Jinyoung was not a petty man, and he never once complained or asked for acknowledgement. He always put in his best effort with outright sincerity for his loved ones, without asking for return. Somehow, this led Mark to feeling that having Jinyoung was like holding a poisoned chalice. The peace preserved with his generosity was proportionate to the guilt he felt for not giving Jinyoung the words of affirmation he deserved.

 

At that moment, looking at how his lover’s eyes crinkle as he beamed with joy, Mark was determined to make him happy. He might not be good with expressing his thanks verbally, but he was a firm believer of “actions speak louder than words”. He was bent on keeping that smile on Jinyoung’s face for as long as he was alive.

 

~~~~~

 

Jinyoung was pleasantly surprised when he felt Mark’s fingers entwine with his; it made him feel butterflies escaping from his stomach and warmth engulfing his chest all at once. He turned to look at this God-sent angel, who seemed to give no response and was staring far ahead with empty eyes, engrossed in his own thoughts.

 

He squeezed Mark’s hand gently, but strongly, and the latter came back to reality, blinking repeatedly before facing the younger with a warm smile. Jinyoung looked away instinctively, embarrassed at the intimacy of that expression. He swore he melted a little every time Mark flashes his to-die-for smile, and despite being together for so many years, he sometimes still wondered if all of this was real or just a fantasy.

 

“Uncle Mark! Uncle Jinyoung! Hurry up!” Kylie shrieked, each word higher pitched than the next like excitement was bubbling out of her. Leila imitated with similar yet undecipherable screams as she chased after her sister towards the pet store.

 

“Are you sure you’re related? Why are they so hyper and adorable while you’re not?” Jinyoung chuckled, mostly at his own joke (he refused to admit it was barely one), inattentive to the amused smirk played across Mark’s face.

 

Mark laughed dryly before leaning towards Jinyoung with his lips barely a centimeter from the younger’s ear, totally not faltered by the fact that they were standing in the middle of a pathway in a hectic mall, and whispered, voice deep, “you know that’s a lie.” Then he hastily pecked the reddening ear before pulling the shell-shocked victim of his public display of affection towards the kids, as though nothing happened.

 

 _Damn you, Tuan._ Jinyoung cussed in his head, feigning nonchalance to hide the blush spreading across his face. He was ashamed that he might be enjoying this too much – Mark’s stolen kiss, Mark holding his hand… And Mark, the girls, and him huddling in front of the glass enclosure, watching the litter of puppies play, _together, like a family._

 

He was certain he wasn’t the only one in the pet store with that thought. Surely, the pet store owner who gave him an approving nod thought they were a happy family of four. Surely, the lovely lady who gushed at the cute actions of Kylie and Leila thought they were his and Mark’s daughters. Surely, the puppies staring at them with big, watery eyes were thinking they might be a family wanting to adopt them. _Right?_

He knew it was unhealthy to bask in a fantasy that was unlikely to happen, yet a part of him wanted to enjoy the moment, even if it wasn’t real. He brushed his fingers through Kylie’s soft hair and gazed at her affectionately, at how she put her tiny arm around her little sister and pointed with the other, counting the number of fluffy white puppies out loud to the younger one. Such pure innocence and love struck on his heartstrings, and he turned his focus to the puppies they were looking at, letting his lips tug into a grin as Kylie’s counting went on.

 

_… eight, nine, ten._

“They love you,” Mark remarked, surprised at both how the puppies seemed to be thrilled to see Jinyoung (dogs usually ran away from him for some unknown reason), bouncing up and down and pawing at the glass where Jinyoung stood before, and how Jinyoung looked absolutely in _love_ with them.

 

He did not expect Jinyoung to reply to his comment, but the younger’s voice, so close to brimming with emotions, filled the air between them. “I love them too.”

 

Mark’s face washed blank with confusion, like his brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to take in the information from his ears. Every muscle of his body just froze before a grin crept onto his face and his eyes lit up. Almost immediately, his mind ran wild just thinking of how he was going to thank Jinyoung this time.


	3. Chapter 3

“How do you spell _anniversary_ again?” Jackson asked as he scrunched up his nose in response to the mephitic smell of raw wall paint.

 

Mark rolled his eyes. _And Jackson claimed he got accepted into Stanford?_ “I don’t have time for this, Jackson,” he mumbled as he continued stirring the cake mixture in the mixing bowl. He had a broken bowl beside him and ingredients strewn all over the kitchen counter and floor, yet he worked with complete focus as though he was used to sock skating on flour.

 

Jackson scoffed and whipped his phone out from his pocket. “Fine, Mister Use-your-friends-as-event-planners-for-free. I will check with my _new_ best friend, _Dictionary.com._ ”

 

“ _Wow_ , how competent,” Mark remarked sarcastically. He swore, he was not usually that mean, but Jackson was really getting on his nerves. He thought his goofball of a friend would be great comic relief from the entire week of stress over planning for his and Jinyoung’s wedding anniversary. Oh, he was so wrong.

 

Jackson’s antics only slowed down the preparation progress and Mark wanted – _needed –_ everything to be perfect.

 

“Hey! At least I’m pretty decent at art!” The younger protested in annoyance, flaunting the paintbrush in his hand with obtrusive, flamboyant flicks of his wrist. He stepped back to admire his “masterpiece”, awkward spacing between letters and uneven strokes he decided were more of an artist’s free expression than mistakes.

 

“Yeah,” Mark deadpanned. “So decent, you bought smelly _wall paint_ when I clearly told you to get acrylic.”

 

Jackson looked up, slightly offended. “They were on discount! Fifty percent!” He finished up the banner: a paint-splattered one with the words _“Happy 2 nd Anniversary!”_ sprawled across carelessly in red. “I’m done, you slow ass Markie Pooh.”

 

Mark initially planned to quickly steal a glance at the product and go back to baking, but the red letters jumped at him like shark out of water. His jaw dropped before he groaned in disbelief, “Jackson, oh my god, it looks like something from a _bloody_ horror movie!”

 

There was no apology, only a shrug from the artist responsible. “Whatever, at least Jinyoung likes red. I think.” Jackson wiped the excess paint thoughtlessly on the apron he was wearing (probably Jinyoung’s, but he believed friends were supposed to share). “As if you could do a better job,” he sneered at Mark. “I told you, I should’ve baked instead.”

 

“Forget it, you can’t even tell the difference between sugar and salt.” Mark cringed in disgust at the memory of Jackson’s birthday gift last year: cookies as salty as the sea. He was still fumbling with the measurements, his hand-eye coordination almost haywire from switching his focus between the recipe and measuring cups. He could definitely use some help, but not help from Jackson Wang, King of Trouble. If not for Jackson’s ineptitude at keeping secrets, he would have gotten Jaebum to help him and sent Jackson to take Jinyoung out. He quickly stowed the fresh batter into the oven, careful to avoid eye contact with Jackson in case he wanted to add in some “special ingredient” to ruin the cake.

 

“So, why do we need to go to the mall?” Jackson asked as he stared at the checklist for that day’s agenda. They were done with everything, except cleaning up and their trip to the mall.

 

“To pick up Coco,” Mark replied, a hint of excitement lingering in his voice as he rapidly swept up the mess in the kitchen. Ever since the day they had been to the pet store, he couldn’t forget the image of Jinyoung gazing lovingly at the puppies. After several phone calls and secret visits to the store (he had lied that he had to work overtime), he decided to adopt a snow-white Maltese puppy, Coco.

 

When Mark observed the puppies in the enclosure, he noticed a bundle of white fur poking out from behind the kennel, the fragile creature blinking through tousled strands with eyes full of expectation. She was quiet at first, liking to play alone in the corner. But with time, she warmed up to Mark and exposed a completely different side – affectionate and hyperactive with limitless energy.

 

Coco reminded Mark of himself, and he fell in love with her quickly. He was, too, certain that Jinyoung would love her as much.

 

Jackson’s ears perked up at the unfamiliar name; he narrowed his eyes at the elder. “Are you and Jinyoung having threesomes with some girl I need to know about?”

 

“What?” Mark almost shrieked. “Of course not! You know I don’t s-swing that way.”

 

“Well, maybe you’ll do it for Jin–”

 

“GOOD GOD, JACKSON!” Mark was _so close_ to punching his best friend in the eye. _What the hell was he thinking?_

“Okay, okay. Chill, will you?” Jackson huffed, then his face lit up, eyes sparking with zeal as he wiggled his eyebrows cheekily. “Will you introduce me to her then?”

 

Mark could hardly keep his laughter from escaping from his mouth. “Of course!” he smirked.

 

~~~~~

 

Jaebum sighed. The guilt he was feeling for lying to Jinyoung was slowly, yet steadily, consuming him; he was afraid it wasn’t long till he burst. _This is what you get for being friends with a couple_ , he thought.

 

The night before, he had received a phone call from Mark, who was speaking in hushed tones such that Jaebum could hardly distinguish his words. The elder had asked – no, it was almost begging – for him to bring Jinyoung out the next day. He gave no reason, and no detail, and just left him to the work it out.

 

He was looking forward to his movie date with a cute newcomer at his workplace, Youngjae. Yet, he had to blatantly cancel the date, using “family issues” as a lousy excuse, and bring Jinyoung to that movie instead.

 

“I didn’t know you liked romance movies,” Jinyoung commented as they sauntered out of the movie theatre. He had known Jaebum for years, and had never pegged him as the kind to like purely romantic movies. Red roses and mushy scenes just did not fit his cool, chic image.

 

“Hmm I d-didn’t know either?” Jaebum stammered, pretending to look far ahead and act as normal as he could so the younger wouldn’t catch the blush creeping up his cheeks. _It was supposed to be for Youngjae._ He couldn’t be more grateful when Jinyoung broke the silence. “Anyway, it was a nice movie, hyung. Did Mark ask you to bring me?”

 

While Jinyoung looked like he was tickled pink at the thought, Jaebum almost choked on his own spit. “No!” he yelled, before his brain could formulate any excuse. “Uh, of course not. Why would you think that?”

 

“It is our wedding anniversary tomorrow, he’s probably planning something at home,” Jinyoung reasoned. He seemed pretty calm, unlike Jaebum, who was trembling beneath his skin.

 

“Hmm, is it? I don’t know anything.” Jaebum lied through his teeth _._ Technically, he didn’t know much either, but it surely did not help with the burden of guilt.

 

“Perhaps with some homemade cake and cheesy banners,” Jinyoung continued, chuckling at the mere thought of it. Jaebum gulped. If he did remembered correctly, Jackson mentioned something about failed cake batters and brilliant hand-painted banners via Whatsapp, _or did he accidentally send it in the group chat again? How did Jinyoung know?_

_Silence is golden. Shut your mouth, Im Jaebum._

 

Jinyoung didn’t seem to mind the lack of response, and he silently thanked the gods for giving Jinyoung such a happy-go-lucky personality. He checked the time – it was only half past three, and Mark asked for him to bring Jinyoung home for dinner. Cursing inwardly, he faked a gawky smile and dragged his close friend away from the parking lot. “Do you want some coffee?”

 

“Not really–”

 

“W-well, I do. Let’s go get some, Jinyoung!” Jaebum interrupted and proceeded to push the younger along with steps so fleeting, they were uncharacteristic of his usual composed personality.

 

~~~~~

 

Jinyoung felt like a king. Well, he wasn’t treated like one (yet, he hoped) but he felt like one indeed. He had been friends with Jaebum since they were babies. Considering how close their parents were, he had probably worn hand-me-down diapers from Jaebum who was eight months older. They grew up sharing _everything_ , from garments and food, to feelings and thoughts.

 

He could tell, in less than a split second, that Jaebum was lying. He could identify the almost undetectable quiver in his voice at the end of each sentence he spoke, and the distant look in his blank eyes – both indicatory of him lying. It was so obvious, he might as well have been Pinocchio.

 

In other words, he was right about Mark preparing a cake and banners for their second anniversary, and that brought him to cloud nine instantaneously. _You’re not so unpredictable after all huh, Tuan?_

Jinyoung loved surprises; they always touch a delicate part of his heart. Yet, knowing exactly what his lover planned was way more exhilarating. Maybe, he _finally_ had his finger on the dictionary of Mark Tuan.

 

“Are you alright, Jinyoung? You’re smiling like an idiot.” Jaebum observed. He was unable to concentrate behind the wheel with his best friend bursting into fits of giggles every now and then on his own.

 

“I’m more than alright,” Jinyoung chirped. The sun was setting quickly and blackness quickly engulfing the streets, but he could only notice how the stars above the heavens were twinkling, and how the soft, crescent moon was smiling down at him. The night sky was a brilliant Van Gogh and his heart was painting love.

 

A wide smile played on his lips, so bright, even the stars couldn’t outshine it.

 

~~~~~

 

It had been four hours, and Jackson was still sulking like a toddler. “You said Coco was a _lovely bitch_!” He was embarrassed at how this turned out, but not as much as he was disappointed. He wouldn’t lie; he was _definitely, undoubtedly, positively_ looking forward to meeting a new badass girl – totally his type.

 

“Well,” Mark responded, disinterested in the ugly grunts of despair (as expected of the King of Exaggerations) Jackson was making. “I didn’t _exactly_ lie.”

 

At any other time, he would be beaming, proud of the joke he played on the younger. However, time did not permit childish shenanigans. Jinyoung could arrive any moment, and the thought of it sent his heart racing at the speed of a bullet train.

 

Mark stepped back to scan his surroundings. The spread of food was decent enough, amateur versions of delicacies found in the recipe book Mark found in the library, but it was the thought that counted, _right?_ Since Jinyoung was always the one preparing dinner, day and night, whether he was well or not, he wanted to do the same for him.

 

The cake he baked was rather impressive for a beginner. Jackson scorned his hard work, obviously still pissed that Coco was furrier than he had imagined, and insisted it was beginner’s luck. Mark begged to differ; perhaps the hours he spent watching _Cake Boss_ in preparation for this day paid off. Drizzled in chocolate and adorned with honeyed strawberries, it was as sweet as Jinyoung was to him.

 

The living room looked magical as well (if one ignored the monstrous banner by, _ahem,_ Jackson Wang), with fairy lights blinking in the dim light and pastel balloons floating against the ceiling. Mark adjusted the positions of some of the balloons that were stubbornly trying to escape, taping them to cover a bit of the banner. _Sorry Jackson._

 

Finally, he checked on the white fluff ball curled up in the soft pet bed he bought from the pet store, along with dozens of other pet products he couldn’t restrain himself from getting. The young pup was in deep slumber, snoring lightly against the stuffed toy dog that looked like a miniature replica of her.

 

Mark caressed the still creature, its soft fur sifting through his fingers like mist. “Welcome to the family, Coco,” he murmured.

 

If Jackson had not interrupted, Mark would have sat with the puppy for much longer, but his best friend’s distinct voice pierced through the silence. “They’re here! Mark, they’re here!” Jackson half-screamed, half-whispered, resulting in a raspy tone which reminded him of his grandfather.

 

He quickly closed the bedroom door behind him and scampered to the living room. He found himself panicking a little, a part of him afraid that something would suddenly go wrong, though he was mostly giddy with excitement. Jackson had switched off the lights before stumbling to the couch where Mark was hiding, with hushed yelps from his mini collisions with the furniture.

 

“Quiet, Jackson!” Mark shushed the younger from his hiding spot. He could hear the footsteps echoing down the corridor, the turn and click of the key…

 

“I’m sorry! I have night blindness!”

 

“Shhhhh!”

 

It all went by so quickly, lights flashing before his eyes as rustling sounds and familiar voices fill the room. Mark blinked his eyes repeatedly to adjust to the lighting, and there he was: Jinyoung, standing right before him, beaming as though sunshine was pouring out of him.

 

“Surprise!” he exclaimed. “Happy anniversary, Jinyoungie!”

 

Jaebum muttered something along the lines of it not being a surprise at all, but Mark heard nothing. He was completely focused on Jinyoung, scrutinising his face for his response. The younger’s eyes were shining with tears, as brightly as his megawatt smile. _He likes it. Thank goodness, he likes it,_ Mark cheered in his head.

 

He stepped forward and planted a delicate but firm kiss on Jinyoung’s forehead, pausing momentarily to enjoy his scent and presence; even being apart for half the day felt like forever. They embraced, fitting into each other’s arms perfectly, and basked in the warmth of their love.

 

“I love you so much,” Mark breathed, hardly able to calm the endorphins erupting in his body. And the man in his arms replied the words he would die for to hear everyday. “I love you too.” At that moment, it was just the two of them in their own world.

 

“Ahem!” Jackson interrupted rudely, and Jaebum exploded into a fake coughing fit, extinguishing the sparks and fire ignited from the chemistry between the couple. “Save us from your _lovey-dovey honey bunny_ shits, and do that during _bed_ time when we leave.”

 

Jinyoung turned as red as a beetroot at Jackson’s suggestion, but Mark was quick to rescue him from his predicament. “Hey, let’s eat,” he proposed, then turned to Jinyoung with a proud smile and boasted, “I cooked this time! Just for you!”

 

This was, of course, followed by Jackson’s failed attempt to make puking noises. Jaebum rolled his eyes in ridicule, then pulled the younger down in a headlock (that was when he started gagging for real) to settle him on his seat. Mark laughed as he entered the kitchen to get ice for the drinks, leaving Tom and Jerry to fight in his peripheral vision.

 

“I’ll help!” Jinyoung offered and tailed the elder into the kitchen. He picked up an empty glass and approached the freezer, but was stopped with a familiar hug from behind. Mark was snuggling against his neck, his silky hair tickling Jinyoung’s nape. “Stop it!” he whined, albeit still sporting a wide smile.

 

Mark hummed right in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “How do you like it?” the deep voice asked, out of genuine curiosity.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Everything,” Mark clarified as he released Jinyoung from his tight embrace. He turned the younger around and looked deep into his eyes, searching for an answer. From the way his lips were pursed in a tight line, Jinyoung could tell his lover was worried that he didn’t like the event, but it really was nothing to worry about. He could feel the sincerity oozing from outside the apartment; it was clear how much effort Mark put into this “surprise”.

 

“I love everything,” he announced, wholeheartedly, which turned the sides of Mark’s lips up. “I saw the food, the cake, the decorations, the banner–”

 

“THANK YOU! Jinyoung, I heard that! Banner is done by yours truly!” Jackson screamed in joy from the dining room, drawing out a chuckle from the couple in the kitchen.

 

“I’m glad,” Mark said with a relieved sigh. No teasing, no complications; just simple, heartfelt words for today. He quickly filled the glasses on the tray with ice, and effortlessly lifted them with one hand as an experienced waiter would. Leaning in to peck his lover’s cheek, he added. “Wait till you see the new addition to our family, Jinyoung ah, you’ll love her.” He was ecstatic to see Jinyoung’s face brighten immediately; he was now _certain_ he would love Coco.

 

~~~~~

 

Dinner was chaotic, with Jackson repeatedly trying to engage in a food fight with Jaebum. It was probably instinctive with Jinyoung’s motherly nature, that he started cleaning up the mess eagerly. Mark, however, was more eager to show Jinyoung to the bedroom. Hence, he gently stopped him from picking up the dirty dishrag, held his hand with their fingers intertwined and led him to the corner of the house. Jackson sensed that the party was advancing to stage two, and followed suit, dragging Jaebum along to the master bedroom.

 

There was a moment of silence before the door was opened – held breaths from two who were desperately trying to keep down the hullabaloo raging in their guts, and also from two who were both perplexed and nervous before the beheld surprise.

 

At the very moment the door swung open, two round black orbs emerged from the white sheets of the bed. “Jinyoung,” Mark began, voice overwhelmed with pride. “Meet Coco.”

 

He expected a shriek of delight, affectionate gushing and emotional tears, but all he heard was Jackson’s anticlimactic cheers and Jaebum’s unceremonious claps. Coco was blinking innocently at him amidst the confusion, and he turned to look at Jinyoung.

 

No smile, no tears. Apart from looking flustered, Jinyoung showed no sign of happiness. All of a sudden, Mark felt empty inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely readers! It's my first time leaving a note here on ao3 and I just want to thank all of you for reading my nonsense so far hehe. Hopefully it's alright for you all for now! :) It'll probably end with chapter 4, which I'll try to update asap! Do leave comments for any suggestions or feedback so I can improve. Thank you for all the kudos and support so far!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mature content (just a bit).

Jinyoung thought he had heard wrong. _“New addition to our family”_ were the exact words Mark had said. As soon as he processed them, he felt fizzy all over, like sweet soda. He was excited, nervous, but mostly happy. His inner skeptic raised some doubts about this surreal speculation, but he was too overwhelmed with emotions that logic had no power over him.

 

Mark must have read his mind, like he had always. Mark must have known about his dream. Mark must have had gotten them a… _daughter?_ His deduction caused a series of bodily dysfunctions – his heart swelled, his chest tightened, and his airway constricted, making it hard to breathe. _Is this how it feels like to be taken to the top of the world?_

 

As much as Jinyoung appreciated Mark’s efforts in making dinner for the night, he couldn’t concentrate at the dinner table. He was shoving food down his throat without much thought, his mind being somewhere else. The exhilaration bubbling uncontrollably in his stomach coupled with his heart thumping erratically against his chest did not help with the wave of nausea that hit him when he finally finished his meal.

 

 _Wow, a daughter._ The mere thought drove Jinyoung crazy. He wanted to scream in joy and throw confetti out of the window, but could only barely suppress himself by pinching his arm under the table. At that moment, his mind was like a butterfly; no matter how he tried to distract himself – neither imagining Jackson’s naked body _(eww)_ nor Jaebum dressed as a girl worked – his mind kept fluttering back to what Mark had said. Then, he would get that tingly sensation all over again.

 

When Mark _finally_ grabbed Jinyoung’s hand and led him towards the bedroom, he literally felt every fibre of his being vibrating in anticipation. He didn’t dare to have expectations of what was in the room, but his thoughts ran wild anyway. There was no way he would see a living, breathing baby in the room, was there? Surely, there would be some adoption papers? To be completely honest, he would be a hundred percent satisfied with a note that expressed Mark’s wish to have a child with him, but given the elder had already promised he would be able to meet the new addition to their family, his hopes were as high as the sky.

 

He walked with a spring in his step alongside Mark, as though he was on cloud nine. He had a great feeling about what prevailed behind the door, and nothing that felt this right could possibly go wrong. It just couldn’t.

 

What happened next felt like it was in slow motion. The door swung open, and Jinyoung prepared himself as he caught Mark’s grin in the corner of his eye. His vision blurred momentarily as he zealously tried to adjust his focus on the new setting.

 

“Jinyoung, meet Coco.” Mark said.

 

 _Coco? Who?_ Jinyoung blinked repeatedly. For a few seconds he saw nothing in the room, until two black orbs emerged from behind the white duvet. _What in the world?_ He remained nonplussed, unmoving despite the cheers and commotion in the background.

 

He stared at the puppy, and the puppy stared right back at him with her large, innocent eyes. Jinyoung knew the little creature did nothing wrong, but he was itching to curse at it right there and then. He didn’t want to feel disappointed, as it was a gift from the love of his life after all, but there was no way to hide his true feelings from the way his face fell. It was as though someone took his wings away. One moment, he was soaring across the vast, blue skies; and the next, he was propelling down to reality. He was right not to have expectations.

 

“So, do you like her?” Mark asked, voice full of hope. When not met with the reaction he wanted, he bit his lip and scratched his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, I noticed you kept looking at the puppies that day so I thought–”

 

“No,” Jinyoung cracked into the best fake smile he could muster. “I like her. Thank you, Mark.”

 

“SHE IS POOPING!” Jackson shrieked before guffawing, breaking the awkward tension in the room, and Mark instinctively grabbed some tissues from the bedside table and rushed to the crime scene.

 

Jinyoung, on the other hand, dropped his smile and silently left the room.

 

~~~~~

 

Jinyoung reminded himself to be grateful. Mark had adopted Coco with him in his mind, and anyone would and _should_ be happy. His disappointment slowly faded across the days, but that space was replaced by pent up frustration.

 

He splashed water on his face, the cold searing his skin before little droplets rolled off his cheeks like tears. Wiping them off with a towel, he looked at his reflection in the mirror – eye to eye. Forcing his eyes wide open, he gave his best puppy-eye look, only to cringe in disgust at how much he resembled Chucky from _Child’s Play_.

 

_What’s so cute about Coco, huh? That she gets all the attention?_

He had planned, from day one, to be good friends with Coco, harbouring hope that it would all work out. However, Coco avoided him like the plague (unfortunately, just like every other dog he had encountered in the past). The only time they managed to be of close proximity was when she scampered shamelessly to him as he poured dog food into her bowl. He was just a second slower in putting the bowl on the floor, and that _glutton_ of a dog pounced on him and bit his finger.

 

He swore it was not that he didn’t try to get along with Coco, but they were born to this world to be enemies.

 

~~~~~

 

Many times Jinyoung and Mark get heated in passion, bodies pressed against each other as their lips met in a fiery kiss.

 

The first time happened when they slept over at Jaebum’s house.

 

Despite them being a married couple, they never felt more like a third wheel. It was suspicious from the start, when Jaebum invited them without Jackson who, out of rage, publicly announced the end of their friendship on Facebook (they made up five minutes after when Jaebum called him and offered Burger King vouchers).

 

But when they arrived at his house and were greeted by a new face that introduced himself as Youngjae, Jaebum’s plan became blindingly obvious. As an individual known for his chic and cold attitude, it would already be a miracle to see him responding to someone who was not a friend of more than three years. Well, pigs must have been flying somewhere in the world then, as Jaebum was smiling brighter than all his smiles in his lifetime combined, and acting like a mimosa whenever Youngjae’s hand accidentally brushed across his. Anyone could put two and two together to know that Youngjae was definitely more than a _friend_ despite Jaebum’s claims.

 

His apartment had two rooms with a double bed each; Mark and Jinyoung would stay in one, and then – you do the math. Jinyoung didn’t mind that he was “used” by his best friend as a pawn in his love pursuit (though he had _a lot_ of explaining to do), and Mark did not look bothered as well. Besides, they did look cute together. If there was someone who could bring happiness to his best friend, Jinyoung was more than ready to welcome him.

 

However, as time passed, Jinyoung wanted to swallow his initial thoughts. _Damn it, Jaebum._ “Who is he to tell us not to publicly display our affection when he’s openly flirting with lover boy over there?” He hissed into Mark’s ear, annoyed that he had been sitting stiffly in his seat with his hands to himself for the past two hours.

 

“Your best friend,” Mark replied matter-of-factly. Jinyoung was halfway through rolling his eyes when the elder grabbed his hand from under the table, then whispered, “we have time for _it_ when we’re alone in our room later.”

 

And _it_ was exactly what they did.

 

Jinyoung remained still at first, seemingly unable to believe that they were going to do something this _wrong_ at his best friend’s house. Mark, on the other hand, was unaffected and in his element. He sat the younger down at the edge of the bed and wasted no time at all, spreading his legs while pulling the drawstring of his sweatpants with his teeth, all in one swift motion.

 

Jinyoung gasped, and glanced down at Mark’s hands as they brushed against his hipbones, searing his skin like fire. The suppressed sexual frustration, from behaving like a nun the past few hours, went supernova. Also, the possibility of getting caught in the act somehow triggered the nerves within him and heightened his senses more, so much that he was unsure of whether he could handle what was to come. Yet, that did not stop him from lifting his hips slightly so Mark could pull his pants and boxers down to his ankles.

 

He shivered at the feeling when cold air first came into contact with his newly exposed skin, a guilt-worthy pleasure engulfing his soul, but it could not compare to the violent shudder when Mark took him in his mouth. In no time at all, he was fully hard, barely able to suppress his moans as his desires ran out of control, as though he was drunk on endorphins.

 

Mark went faster, and Jinyoung fisted the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. When his hips begun to buck involuntarily in increasingly erratic rhythm, he could feel the familiar heat pooling in his gut and he knew he was close.

 

From the corner of the bedroom, Jinyoung thought he heard a whimper. Thinking he must be hearing things from his enraptured state, he brushed it off and focused on Mark’s eyes, intense but clouded with lust at the same time.

 

_Just… a bit… more…_

 

The sound grew louder, and this time, both of them heard it. Mark slowed to a stop and for a moment the room was silent. What they saw next had Jinyoung’s jaw dropping – so much he was surprised he didn’t find his jaw on the floor – and Mark releasing Jinyoung from his mouth with a loud pop: Coco appeared and strutted towards them, her fluffy tail swishing as though she did _not_ interrupt a private moment.

 

Excited to see her owner, she did the worst thing she could have done. Coco began barking, her sharp yelps triggering all the alarm bells in Jinyoung’s head. Mark tried to shush her, to no avail, as his gestures must have been misinterpreted as a signal to play, causing her to bark even more loudly, it was almost aggressive.

 

And then Jinyoung heard it, what he was expecting but secretly hoping would not happen – the frantic footsteps of Jaebum and Youngjae, rushing towards their room. _Shit._ Mark shot him a weary look, and Jinyoung sighed while pulling his pants up over his throbbing erection, the friction against his boxers killing him inside, slowly but surely.

 

“Did something happen?” Jaebum barged into the room without knocking (luckily, Jinyoung was already safely covered by the blanket), his eyebrows furrowed in genuine concern.

 

“No!” Mark and Jinyoung answered at the same time, so quickly it almost gave them away. “Don’t worry Jaebum, we were just about to sleep but Coco was making a fuss,” Mark convinced, holding Coco with one hand while he slipped into the blankets as well.

 

“Oh okay. Alert me if anything happens.” Jaebum didn’t bat an eye and retreated from the room, switching off the lights on his way out. “Good night!”

 

And that was it for the night. Jinyoung laid, in pitch darkness, with Coco in between him and Mark, willing himself to sleep with his raging hard-on.

 

It was then that Jinyoung realised, Mark’s space was no longer solely his.

 

~~~~~

 

The second time happened on the couch when they were watching a romance movie, when the love scenes flashing before their eyes got too explicit and they couldn’t calm the frenzied hormones within them. Jinyoung was getting so hot and bothered that he got up from the comfort of Mark’s arms to take a “toilet break”, but the latter had pulled him down to his chest and leaned in for a kiss.

 

The movie eventually washed out as white noise, as the intensity transferred to the electricity passing between them. Mark had his fingers gently run up and down Jinyoung’s spine, coaxing shivers out of him. With his cheeks still blushing hotly, he glanced back up into Mark’s lust-blown eyes. They were staring right back at his intently, and with just one knowing look between them, they had their shirts stripped and thrown to the floor.

 

Dizzy with ragged breaths, Jinyoung let his eyelids fall and allowed himself to relax in the warmth of their bodies. He stifled a surprised gasp when Mark’s hand slipped into his pants and over his crotch, palming it ever so slightly. Just as he felt a rush of euphoric bliss envelop him, Mark drew away and the body weight on him was replaced by… unattractive panting sounds?

 

_What the fuck?_

Jinyoung snapped his eyes open and came face to face with Coco’s furry face, upside-down, staring at him like she was expecting praise. He felt his eyelid twitching, his temper threatening to blow up right there and then. He surely would have, if not for the major distraction down south.

 

“Oh dear, Coco,” Mark groaned, then picked her up and gave her a big kiss on her nose. He turned to Jinyoung and gave an apologetic look, “Jinyoung ah, she’s hungry. Wait for a moment, will you?”

 

It was then that Jinyoung realised, Mark’s kisses were no longer solely his.

 

~~~~~

 

The third time was long awaited, what Jinyoung was looking forward to the entire week. Mark would be coming home, _finally_ , after a three-day business trip, and he had promised Jinyoung a “great night” when he whined about missing him. He knew what to expect, and he was genuinely excited, also weirdly nervous, as it had been what seemed like centuries since they last had each other.

 

The three days he had spent alone with Coco felt like a high school chick-flick dormitory drama. This _damn_ dog didn’t know when to quit. Cut that, she was no dog, just a puppy, and Jinyoung was pretty sure he was still way older than her in dog years, yet she treated him with no respect.

 

She never knew when to quit her barking, slobbering or panting her breath in his face when she wanted her breakfast. Sometimes Jinyoung decided to be nice and deal with her hyperactivity by entertaining her, but _most_ of the time, the devil in him dreamed of rehoming her or not looking for her after she ran away.

 

Coco was just like the roommate he never wanted, the literal _bitch_ who would never fail to appear when he was about to get some from his lover, ruining the moment like it was fun to trample on others’ sexual excitement – which was why he made sure Coco was locked in the kitchen before Mark was home.

 

He made sure to fill her food and water bowls, include her pet bed and threw in all of her toys. It was a foolproof plan; there was no way she couldn’t be entertained for at least an hour on her own with all of that.

 

But _oh,_ was he wrong. It was all so perfect – Mark and him entangled in one longing kiss. Every touch, on its own, was precious, and Jinyoung didn’t realise how much he missed Mark. His firm muscles, his soft hair, his intoxicating breath; just his presence alone sent his blood cells dancing, coursing through his veins with such heat and passion and love.

 

He was giddy with happiness at the thought of them spending quality time with each other that night, souls and bodies as one, then Coco started whimpering from the kitchen. “Let her be,” Jinyoung panted, the exasperation in him straining his voice. Mark simply nodded, and then went in for another lip-lock, and Jinyoung visibly relaxed.

 

But all good things come to an end, this time, a bit too quickly for Jinyoung’s liking. Coco’s whimpers escalated into howls, so excruciatingly loud they sounded like cries, and neither Mark nor Jinyoung could ignore it any longer.

 

 _No, not again._ Jinyoung knew that look, a complex mix of emotions – disappointment, regret and mostly guilt. _Please Mark, no._ He pleaded with his eyes. There was no way Mark was going to leave him hanging again, not after so many times.

 

He was hopeful, that the quiver in Mark’s eyes meant he was having second thoughts. However, Mark mouthed the word Jinyoung didn’t want to hear – _sorry –_ pecked his lips one last time, and left him.

 

He was half relieved they stopped to check on Coco, as she was indeed sick and they had to take her to the veterinarian; he wouldn’t want Mark to blame him if anything happened to her. On the other hand, call him childish, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that Mark took no time at all to decide that going to Coco was more important.

 

It was then that Jinyoung realised, Mark’s attention was no longer solely his.

 

There was no escaping fate, and fate wanted Coco to give him blue balls. He had less time with Mark each time, and each time was more frustrating than the next. He was so afraid, that one day, he would lose Mark completely to her.

 

He was right; they were born to be enemies. It was the survival of the fittest – Jinyoung versus Coco. They were two sides of a coin, either heads or tails and nowhere in between.

 

~~~~~

 

Jinyoung woke up feeling weirdly empty. Usually, he would awake in Mark’s warm embrace, but that morning was cold like winter and the bed never felt bigger. When he called for the elder, he was met with only the monotonous ticking of the wall clock. It was a quarter before eight, and Mark would usually be sitting on the couch in his sleek suit, sipping on his frothy French coffee.

 

However, the thick aroma of coffee was absent, and so was Mark.

 

Jinyoung immediately checked his phone for any text messages, yet the only notifications he received were irrelevant Twitter mentions. He tried to call the elder too, but as soon as his ringtone sounded in the same room, he knew something was not right.

 

No notice the night before. No text. No note on the fridge. To say Mark was organised would be a huge understatement. He was more of a neat freak, pro planner. For someone who arranged his clothes in pantone hues and according to material, who even kept a _freaking_ catalogue for _“easy reference”_ when planning his outfits three days in advance, doing something spontaneous would be closer to possessed behaviour than normal – hence Jinyoung’s conclusion: something bad must have happened.

 

He found himself pacing up and down the living room like a caged tiger, occasionally poking his head out to the main corridor to see if Mark was coming home. He had called Jackson and Jaebum, but both of them answered groggily, voice heavy with sleep, that they hadn’t received any news from Mark, but would be coming over to their place.

 

It didn’t matter that he was starting to feel sick (hunger pangs plus anxiety caused a terrible chemical reaction). His lips were pale and quivering, and his eyes swollen from tears he had shed from thinking horrible thoughts, but what mattered was whether Mark was safe. What was it that happened that made him leave without a sound?

 

As if God poked fun at Jinyoung’s anxiety, thick storm clouds loomed over the city and within seconds, rain was pouring. It had been an hour since he woke up to Mark missing, and he finally decided that he was not going to wait another twenty-three hours just so he could report to the police. What kind of lousy, ineffective law was that anyway?

 

He quickly slipped on the first pair of shoes he saw, and headed to the main door of his apartment. His hands were shaking in his panic, so vigorously that he was struggling to open the door, the metal clanging noisily against the door lock as he fumbled with the keys.

 

“Hey hey! Jinyoung ah!” Jaebum had arrived, and shouted in alarm at Jinyoung’s desperate actions. He ran towards the younger and snatched the keys from his trembling hands. “Let me help you.”

 

He opened the door quickly and was about to steady Jinyoung when he just barged past him like a loose cannon, limbs weak but having his determination propelling him forward. “Wait!” Jaebum yelled, did a double take at the younger’s disappearing figure then glanced at the unlocked door. He sighed as he locked the door as quickly as possible, but when he turned around, Jinyoung was long gone.

 

~~~~~

 

Jinyoung didn’t even stop to think of how long he had been in the rain. _Had it been an hour? Two? Three?_ He was drenched from head to toe, and the rainwater must have gotten into his system as well, as his heart was heavy as though it was soaked, the weak pulses barely keeping him on his feet.

 

He just realised he had brought nothing with him, no umbrella or raincoat, not even his phone. His emotions had taken over his body, willing it to dash into the chaos of flying raindrops and gusting wind. He had no idea where he was going; he was just running forward, hoping Mark would appear somewhere, _anywhere._

 

Somehow, he was back to square one. Jinyoung stood before the high-rise apartment building, ignoring the burning sensation that began to consume his leg muscles, and stared at the dim, yellow light glowing in the far corner of the top floor – their home.

 

As his adrenaline died down, regret and self-blame began to set in. If only he had woken up before him, if only he knew if the elder had any problems, if only he knew exactly what happened. Unfortunately, there was no “if” in life; he could only pray that Mark had returned to the safety of their home.

 

Jinyoung stood there for a moment under the gloomy clouds and let the rain hit him, cold and hard, for so long, he was numb to the sensation of the rain droplets splashing onto his freezing skin. As the clouds continued crying, he cried with them. A single tear slid down from his expressionless eyes, followed by another one, and another one, until he couldn’t tell from his tears and the rain and his face was just one wet mess.

 

“Jinyoung? Is that you?”

 

 _Mark?_ Jinyoung turned around and he rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Did the rain get to his brain too?

 

“Why are you here? Oh my god, you’re drenched!” Mark exclaimed, voice laced with concern, while he approached the younger who immediately fell into his arms, his muffled sobs wracked against his chest.

 

“Where were you?” Jinyoung sniveled. He felt as though all the emotions held behind by his adrenaline gushed through his entire being as soon as he saw that Mark was well and right in front of him, and all of a sudden he felt his knees go weak, like all the energy he had dissipated in a split second.

 

Mark held onto Jinyoung, his grip careful but strong. “I’m sorry,” he began, eyes darting from Jinyoung’s overwrought face to the floor, seemingly unsure of how to explain the situation. “I took Coco for a walk and I lost her for a moment. Then it started pouring so I just had to find her before anything happens. I-I tried to call you but I realised I forgot my phone and –”

 

 _Coco. Of course, what else would it have been?_ Jinyoung almost laughed out loud, derisively at himself. It seemed clear how this worked out in the end. He thought that he at least had Mark’s heart, but no. He had given all of his love to Mark, and he had taken it and given it to Coco, giving him apologies instead, in return.

 

Jinyoung found himself taking a step back, and then another, and another. His lips were pursed in a tight line and his heart was wrenching in pain. _I don’t need apologies._ And he took off, stumbling into the lift and violently smashing the button to close the doors. In the closing gap he saw, through his tear-filled eyes, Coco running towards him, her fur bedraggled from the rain, and Mark chasing after her.

 

He never felt more relieved when the lift door finally closed and it was just him on his own, dripping wet but enclosed in temporary peace.

 

When he reached the top floor, his body acted on its own again, this time on anger. As though he was on fire, he pushed past everything in his way – the door, Jackson who stared at him in shock, and Jaebum who exasperatedly tried to stop him.

 

“Jinyoung! What are you doing?” Jaebum growled, getting heated himself from his best friend’s sudden outburst. “Are you out of your mind?”

 

“D-don’t stop me!” Jinyoung choked. He pulled out a suitcase and started throwing everything in his sight into it, ripping the clothes off the hangers as rapidly as his tears fell. He had tried his best to be calm, sensible, accommodating. He _tried_ , and his efforts were not seen, neither did they pay off. Shutting the suitcase with a violent slam, he wiped the briny tears from his bloodshot eyes and announced, his voice coming out shakier than he had planned, “I’m leaving.”

 

With that he took off, using the last bit of energy in him to drag his feet out of the place he called home, with Jaebum chasing after him.

 

When Mark finally set foot into the apartment, he was baffled. He scanned his surroundings, from the open door to the muddy footprints trailing to the bedroom and back, and looked at Jackson questioningly.

 

Something deep down within him told him it was serious, as he hadn’t seen his best friend with a grave expression, _ever_. Jackson simply shook his head and shrugged his shoulders in sheer defeat. “Whatever it is you did, my friend,” he paused and let out an audible sigh. “You screwed up, man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. I lied. It won't end at chapter 4 HAHA I went overboard again oops sorry! Also, this is my first time writing anything remotely close to smut, it's not much and I already want to hide from the rest of the world :x Hope you guys enjoy it anyway! And do comment :) Thank you for reading, for the kudos, for everything really. Do look forward to the final chapter soon!


	5. Chapter 5

For the next few weeks Mark lived like he was dead. Their apartment was so empty and quiet without Jinyoung’s presence, and it didn’t help that Coco was recovering from her illness at the veterinarian. It was so lifeless, the only time he remembered he was still alive was when the ragged sounds of him breathing engulfed the silent room.

 

Still, there was a world of difference between _living_ and simply staying alive. No doubt he was breathing, eating, drinking, but all were mindless, mechanical movements. His soul was detached from his physical body, and what was left was only an unfeeling, empty carcass.

 

At the beginning, he’d thought to give Jinyoung some time, because he’d always come back no matter what. Jinyoung was understanding and forgiving like that. Whenever they fought, he would give him some time to battle out his own emotions, and then Jinyoung would go back to him on his own. Mark, of course, would always welcome the younger with open arms.

 

Hence he tried not to worry about Jinyoung and trusted that he was safe in Jaebum’s care, and he carried on with his daily routine. He would go to work, and head home with a hopeful heart each day, hoping to open the door to their apartment to see his husband waiting for him to have dinner together.

 

It never happened, and his heart fell a little more each day. When a full week had passed and Jinyoung still refused to switch on his phone, Mark let go of his last hope. The thought that Jinyoung would not be coming back dropped on him like an atomic bomb, leaving him broken and irreparable. As though he was entangled in the arms of an evil curse, he fell sick immediately. God could have been kinder to him by allowing him to continue working, as any source of distraction would have helped, yet he was forced by his superiors to take sick leave.

 

Mark was thus stuck in a cruel clockwork cycle; minutes passed like hours and days passed like years. He would spend most of his time curled up in layers of blankets, but no amount of insulation could warm his cold, empty heart as Jinyoung never picked up a single call. He dialed the younger’s number continuously, not missing a single minute in case he had decided to switch on his phone at that crucial moment.

 

The bleeping ringtone accompanied Mark in the day – when he was scavenging for the last of microwaved food, also when he stood under the shower, just staring into space wondering about what Jinyoung could have been doing then. His heart leapt a little every time the ringtone broke into silence, every inch of him anticipating Jinyoung’s voice, but he was always met with the annoying, monotonous machine-generated voice: _“the caller ID you called is currently unavailable.”_

 

It didn’t take long for Mark to come to a decision to ignore the doctor’s advices and step out of the house, and he headed straight for Jaebum’s. The latter had been consistently texting Mark, telling him again and again that Jinyoung was fine. _But how could he be fine?_ Not when he hadn’t called for days, and certainly not when he left without a word, but with tears.

 

As he had expected, Jinyoung refused to see him. Even Jaebum, the owner of the apartment, had no right over the main door. “ _Sorry Mark, he said he would kill himself if I opened the door for you. Give him some more time, yeah?”_ he had texted.

 

The same thing happened over and over again for so many more days, it felt like centuries to Mark. He would wake up, call Jinyoung, barely pick on remnants of leftovers, call Jinyoung, travel to Jaebum’s, call Jinyoung… He was stuck in a recurring nightmare, except it wasn’t merely a figment of his imagination, but the harsh reality.

 

He craved for the oblivion of sleep but each night was spent tossing and turning in bed, the darkness blinding and the silence deafening. There was no Jinyoung to hug to sleep, no comfort from his soft and steady breathing. There was no Jinyoung to wake up to.

 

Twelve midnight morphed into one, then two, then three – nothing changed except the glowing numerals of the digital clock. Before he knew it dawn would arrive, but each beautiful sunrise meant nothing to him except an indicator that it was yet another torturous day without Jinyoung.

 

~~~~~

 

“Jinyoung, for the last time, can you _please,_ I beg, not leave your used tissues in the freezer?” Jaebum lamented. His best friend had been tossing dirty tissues around his living space, leaving trails of his tears and mucus all around, as though it was already not obvious that he was in a distraught state.

 

Jaebum had to travel to the central district to get more boxes of tissues because the minimart in his neighbourhood _ran out_ (Jinyoung probably had already demolished a hectare of trees at this rate). Knowing the younger was not in a good mood, he tried not to mention anything about his bad littering habits but it was definitely getting out of hand, considering he almost ate booger-infused bacon.

 

“Sorry,” Jinyoung croaked, lifting his head up from the giant tub of double-chocolate ice cream he was devouring – if only they had triple, _the sweeter the better._ “Must have been when I took this out,” he sniffled.

 

“Seriously–” Jaebum began, but halted immediately as he came eye to eye with his best friend. His sparkly and over-excited eyes used to give him headaches, but now he would do anything to get them back, anything to replace those empty eyes. “Jinyoung ah,” he said, so softly it was barely a whisper, as though a higher decibel would shatter his fragile friend. “Do you mind if we talk about it?”

 

Jinyoung froze at the question, his metal spoon slipping from his grip into the half-empty tub. In those moments of uncomfortable silence, the ice cream in his mouth melted and trickled down his throat – it should have been sweet, but suddenly Jinyoung couldn’t taste the sweetness anymore.

 

“Talk about what?” he asked, feigning nonchalance. He knew he was running away from reality, which was a stupid thing to do, but every time he spared a thought about his and Mark’s predicament, he would feel depressed all over again. For now, he just wanted a sense of peace, even if it rendered him numb to emotions.

 

Jaebum sighed, cautiously removing the ice cream from Jinyoung’s hands. He knew the younger would absolutely abhor what he was going to say (he never took his advice well), but it was time to be the Dutch uncle. He had to knock some sense into Jinyoung, whether he liked it or not.

 

“Listen,” he said firmly after taking a deep breath, “you have to start somewhere. If you don’t want to confront him, talk to me about it. You can’t just wallow in self-pity and hope everything will turn back to normal. Don’t live your life like that, Jinyoung ah. Do something for me, for Mark, for yourself.”

 

There was a note of finality in his tone, and it triggered the overwhelming emotions suppressed within Jinyoung. He recognised that his best friend was right, but he wasn’t ready to face the music. He just wasn’t. “I c-can handle this myself. Y-you don’t have to treat me l-like a baby, hyung,” he stuttered and forced an awkward tight-lipped smile, his attempt to sound reassuring failing through and through.

 

“But you’re acting like one,” Jaebum retorted, causing the younger to flinch. Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his messy hair and sighed for the umpteenth time. “I’m sorry,” he frowned. “I just want the best for you, Jinyoung. I can’t stand to see you in this state.”

 

Upon hearing Jaebum’s harsh but true words, the fake smile on Jinyoung’s face slumped faster than a poorly set dessert. “I know,” he mumbled as he sunk into the sofa in defeat, his arms clutching the cushion closer to his chest in a despondent search for some warmth. “I know, hyung. I just… I just d-don’t know about…”

 

“About?” Jaebum prompted, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge with one finger, eager to _finally_ find out the root of the problem and hopefully, help to solve it.

 

Jinyoung let out a shaky breath; the dread and anxiety deadened his mind and body. Closing his weary eyes, he finally blurted what was long buried in his heart: _“M-mark.”_ Immediately, he felt weird all over from saying the name he had been trying to avoid. It was as if someone punctured a hole in his empty vessel and waves of emotions came flooding in, sudden and unstoppable.

 

The name he used to love so much, the name that had him blessed and intoxicated and walking on air, had become a taboo. What used to be Cupid’s arrows now felt like ruthless stabs through his heart, each knife laced with lethal poison. “Hyung, I feel like Mark doesn’t … d-doesn’t love me anymore.”

 

He finally said it. By then, he was biting his lower lip and holding his breath, doing everything he could to suppress those tears in his eyes that were threatening to spill. The first effort he made to step up to reality felt like a huge blow across his face, and he was utterly shaken.

 

Jaebum opened his mouth to say something but was abruptly interrupted by sounds of knocking on the main door. Intuitively, he stood up to open the door, only to be stopped by a familiar voice.

 

“Jinyoung…” The voice was weak but desperate, faint and muffled from the barrier of the door but still audible. Jaebum hastily glanced at the man whose name was just called – he was stupefied, mouth agape and unmoving.

 

“Jinyoung ah, please,” Mark continued. “Can we talk about it? I miss you so much Jinyoung, please talk to me, _I love you_.” Towards the end of the sentence, his voice sounded so strained it was as if he choked it out from the depths of his wrecked being.

 

 _I love y-you?_ Just a second ago, Jinyoung had his blood drained completely from his face, which left him pale as sheet while his name in Mark’s voice bounced around in his skull like a pulsing migraine. Yet, upon hearing the elder confess his love, his heart leapt and his stomach did a little somersault. _Mark loves me?_ For a millisecond, he felt life erupting in him; he felt the urge to run towards Mark and fall into a big bear hug.

 

For so many days he was aware that Mark had came to see him, but he was always in the bedroom and had Jaebum be his messenger. His mind was clouded with doubt, fear, sadness, and he felt terrible and hence sent him away each time. However, it was different now that he heard Mark’s voice with his very own ears. He hated how his mind instantaneously cleared up, how he actually felt a sense of peace now that stormy waves had calmed to still water, but there was no running away from the truth.

 

 _Relief._ He felt an immense sense of relief to hear Mark’s voice again. It handed him a new string of hope, opened him up to a new possibility that maybe Mark meant what he said. Maybe, _just maybe_ , he still loved him as much as before.

 

He was supposed to remain angry. He was supposed to be cold as ice, unmoved by anything and everything Mark tried to do. Instead, he was involuntarily pulled into this calamitous vortex of conflicting emotions and _whoosh whack bam!_ The tables had turned.

 

~~~~~

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jackson asked with a hopeful tone. He had been gawking at Mark for the longest time, amazed at how still he remained despite his disturbances, when usually he would be quick to smack his head. He knew his best friend was quiet, but he was _not_ informed that he was a wax figure.

 

“PEN-EE FAWR YOHR THAWTS?” he shouted this time, dramatically emphasizing each syllable for his hearing impaired friend. Mark finally responded, whipping his head around to send a death glare to Jackson, whose vision blurred from the sudden change of scenery.

 

“You gotta try harder,” the elder muttered before throwing himself onto his bed, hands unable to stop fiddling with his overheated phone. Jinyoung was _still_ not replying. His messages were unread, and his tragic attempts to call him were ruthlessly ignored, as like he was chased away from Jaebum’s apartment like a stray cat every time he visited.

 

Jackson rolled his eyes. _Why call him over when they weren’t going to talk?_ “A penny’s not enough huh,” he huffed. “How about five bucks?”

 

 _Is he fucking serious right now?_ Mark shot the younger an incredulous look, seemingly unable to believe his best friend was capable of cracking jokes at this moment; not when Jinyoung was still uncontactable _id est_ the world was about to end.

 

“Okay okay!” Jackson reluctantly pulled out his wallet and took a sneak peak at its contents, then tucked in his shirt with such tenacity, one would think he was about to announce a reform as a running presidential candidate.

 

“Last deal, six bucks!” he proclaimed, and then eagerly launched into his explanation, spitting words at the speed of a machine gun with no breaths in between. “You know, it’s not because I don’t want to offer you more but because I need at least four bucks to get my a la carte Whopper burger take note _a la carte_ I can’t believe I gave up my _Double Whopper upsized meal_ for you oh my god Markie-pooh you really should be grateful and _oh!_ Don’t ask me why I only have ten bucks I –”

 

“Shut up, Jacks,” Mark snapped, cutting off the ludicrous speech the younger was reciting. _Where did he get such a ratchet best friend?_ “I just… I just don’t want to talk, okay?”

 

“Yeah, let’s not talk then,” Jackson grumbled and threw his arms in the air, peeved at Mark’s wayward behaviour. “Let’s not talk, and wait for some surly, opportunistic man to steal your Jinyoung away _and then,_ you’ll come to me crying wanting to _talk_ about it!”

 

With that, Mark sat up as though rigor mortis set in, his once limp body now surging with life at the thought of Jinyoung leaving him for another man. He would not let someone take the person he loves the most in his life away from him, _never in a million years._

“Now we’re talking,” Jackson flashed a proud smile. He casually picked up the bowl of buttered popcorn he just made in the kitchen, and then crossed his legs on the chair in full attention as if he was about to watch – or listen to, in this case – an intense melodrama. “So, what _shit_ did you exactly do?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Mark answered de facto. Now that he was actively discussing the problem, he realised he had never really understood why it emerged in the first place – he was too caught up with being sick and feeling lonely.

 

“What? You took a dump and you don’t even know if it was diarrhea or constipation?” Jackson deadpanned as he munched on his popcorn, emitting irritating crunching noises the elder just could _not_ appreciate at this moment.

 

“How the hell could you say that with a straight face – wait, _that’s not the point!_ ” The elder sighed exasperatedly. “The point is, you know Jinyoung always keeps things to himself. He hadn’t complained or said anything this time. He just –”

 

Mark shut his eyes and shook his head in self-pity. “He just _left,_ and I know it’s my fault,” he admitted. “It has to be my fault, and I’m a dick for not figuring that out by now.”

 

“You know,” Jackson said with his mouth full, “sometimes when I lose my Burger King vouchers I just try to retrace my steps and _voilà_ , they would be somewhere even if it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. You just gotta look harder for what you love, Markie.”

 

 _Terrible analogy, but he has a point._ Mark straightened his back and cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said, determined. “Let me think…” He hummed as he took a walk down memory lane, catching glimpses of events that flew past evanescently like half-forgotten dreams.

 

From what he could recollect he realised that indeed, Jinyoung had been acting unlike himself lately. He was less talkative, and tended to do things on his own when he would usually be keen to share them with Mark. He had also cut off all contact with Mark for the longest time _ever_ , when he would usually come back with a sheepish face in at most two days, and they would apologise to each other, make up, and _hallelujah_ – everything would be alright again.

 

The fact that this hadn’t happened yet meant that Mark had hurt Jinyoung badly this time, and the guilt was killing him; not like an ambush attack from a sabre-tooth tiger, but slowly and agonizingly, like he was being pecked to death by a million tiny birds.

 

The sudden ringtone beeping from his phone threw him off his thoughts and he scrambled for it like his life depended on it, thinking it was Jinyoung. But in his frenetic state his hands trembled and the phone he tried so hard to grab slipped off like a bar of soap, crashing violently onto the floor. “Argh!” he groaned, vexed at the helter-skelter of the situation.

 

Before he could bend down to pick up the phone, it was stolen with a swift scoop and the ringtone stopped. “Hello?” Jackson greeted while waving his hands in an unperturbed fashion, gesturing for Mark to sit down and relax. The elder complied, but was literally at the edge of his seat as he bit his lip in half anticipation and half fear. _Could it be Jinyoung?_ Just the thought of it sent his heart pounding hard against his ribcage as his pulse pressed outward, jerking the veins within.

 

“Hmm, okay. Yes, okay I’ll let him know.” Jackson eyed Mark with an undecipherable glint in his eyes, which made the latter a nervous wreck. “Okay, thanks! Bye!”

 

“Is it Jinyoung?!” Mark spluttered before Jackson could end the call properly.

 

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Jackson shook his head disappointedly. “You’re so hopeless Mark. But sorry, no it wasn’t. It was the vet, they said Coco has recovered and you can collect her any time this week.”

 

With that, Mark let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He also hadn’t realised that he had broken out in cold sweat until he ran his tongue across his lips, the sweat salty on his sore flesh. _Coco... Right._ He would have felt at least a bit remorseful for forgetting all about his pet, but not now when he had greater worries.

 

“What happened to Coco anyway?” Jackson asked.

 

“Well,” Mark began. “She kinda fell sick when I came back from my business trip in Tokyo, and I guess she hadn’t recovered completely when she got caught in the rain that day Jinyoung left so…”

 

He fell silent as his mind took in his new realisations. Tracing back in reverse chronological order, he remembered Jinyoung sobbing as he took off in the rain. He remembered Jinyoung’s upset tone when he left him in the bedroom to check on the commotion in the kitchen, his disappointed expression when they halted their couch session, and his crestfallen breaths before they fell asleep at Jaebum’s.

 

Were his thoughts visible, they would be an inverse explosion, crazy chaotic turns and twists of light all coming together to just one conclusion, just one word: _Coco._

He should have caught on sooner. It completely slipped his mind that Jinyoung’s reaction to Coco for the first time was lackluster. He had noticed, but did not want to be the wet blanket and ruin the mood by asking him about it then. As time passed, he had forgotten about it, alongside the card he had originally planned to give to Jinyoung with Coco.

 

Now that he had an idea of why Jinyoung was dismayed, all confusion was eradicated, and it became crystal clear to him of how dreadful the younger must have felt. He was overly occupied with trying to take care of Coco properly so Jinyoung didn’t have to feel burdened by responsibility over a pet, and he unknowingly neglected his lover.

 

He was right; it was his fault. Regret was settling in little by little, chiding him for being an incompetent husband. But he had already lost too much time feeling sad for himself, and he wasn’t going to let the regret consume him like maggots in his gut. _What’s done is done_. He would not waste his time entertaining what would only decay him. Instead, he was going to turn things around.

 

With his new resolve he bounced up from the confinement of his messy bed – a negative emotional dumpster he vowed not to go back to – and almost flew across the room, ignoring his best friend’s yells.

 

He was going to see Jinyoung today _, come what may_.

 

~~~~~

 

Jinyoung started missing Mark so much more ever since the day he heard his voice. It was like a drug, one small dose, and he was addicted and aching for more.

 

Dusk came sooner than expected, the last of the sun's rays cosseted behind the soft grey cloud. It was when daylight retired that Jinyoung started to feel emotional; something about the tranquility of the night always managed to draw out his deepest thoughts.

 

He pulled out the familiar piece of clothing from behind his pillow, fingers brushing against the soft and silky fabric delicately. It was Mark’s favourite bomber jacket. He had accidentally packed it with his own clothes in his fury when he decided to leave home, yet he was secretly glad he did. Its presence was bittersweet; sometimes it reminded him of how heartbroken he was, but sometimes it brought back happy memories that kept him going.

 

Jinyoung had been hugging the jacket more than he wanted to for the past three days. Mark had been infiltrating his heart, and he was, as usual, defenseless against him. He sighed helplessly. _Why am I not surprised?_

He was back to square one: a slave to Mark’s love. The only difference was that he didn’t mind anymore. All he knew was that he missed him dearly, and he was desperate for them to be back together and for things to go back to normal.

 

However, he was afraid of Mark’s reaction. Never had he left his side for so long, let alone without any explanation. It was the most selfish thing he could have done, and he wasn’t ready to admit it, preferring to bury his head in the sand. _Such a coward_ , but a coward was the best he could be right now.

 

He gazed at the jacket with a forlorn smile. It was testament to their love and witness to their growth, the loose threads and faded green indicating the length of their relationship. Just looking at it evoked memories of what transpired between them seven years ago.

 

_It was an autumn evening, the rays of the setting sun painting everything a beautiful golden hue. They were strolling aside each other after a hot coffee, and had made several loops around the park – how many, neither knew, for they were both distracted by the rippling sensations of excitement and nerves in their guts. It was their first date after all._

_A small way further up the path they were walking on, a flurry of leaves became free of their boughs and fluttered down unhurriedly in a blur of vibrant red and orange, tumbling to join their sisters on the earth. Each footfall brought a crunch, which Jinyoung was grateful for as it obscured the loud poundings of his heart._

_As night neared the wind awoke, the cold breeze sending a shudder down his spine. Mark smiled endearingly at the cute shiver, to which Jinyoung flashed a sheepish grin. “Feeling cold?” the elder asked with concern._

_But even before Jinyoung could reply, Mark took his hand firmly and slid it into the side pocket of his army green bomber jacket, entwining their fingers in the warmth of its confines. As soon as Jinyoung made sense of the situation, his face flushed, heat from beneath his rosy cheeks burning against the cool air._

_The temperature was falling with the leaves, but Jinyoung felt nice and toasty. Autumns used to make him feel empty when the leaves abandon their branches, leaving them cold and bare. He now immersed in the allure of it, seeing it as the time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale. The wintry gusts of wind he used to dislike then felt like a chilly blend of cinnamon and warm spices, carried by whispers of warm winter fires yet to come._

 

Jinyoung remembered every detail despite it happening so many years ago. Seven years and so much had happened, but his brain refused to let go of this precious piece of memory. It was the day he fell in love with Mark, a day even Disney fairytales could not compare to.

 

He slipped his hands into the pockets, imagining he was transported back in time to the first time they went out as a couple, hoping to relive the rapture and bliss he felt back then. However, he was not expecting to feel a foreign texture against his fingers.

 

With a curious mind he drew it out from the pocket; it was a card, slightly crumpled but evidently addressed to him in black ink, with a dainty scrawl of a heart beside his name. _This handwriting…_ He could recognise it anywhere, small font but with strong, confident strokes, just like Mark’s character – a man of quiet competence.

 

He straightened the card with his palms against his thigh, and lingered on his name for another moment before he flipped it open after a deep breath. It read:

 

_Dear Jinyoung,_

_My favourite Jinyoungie… I can’t believe it’s already been two years since we got married and over seven years since we have met! As cheesy as it sounds, time really flies when I’m with you. I’ve never been happier my whole life than the years with you by my side. I’m really a lucky man. I tell myself every day that I must have been a saint my previous life for me to reap such good luck this lifetime, to be able to marry someone like you._

 

_I always worry that I don’t love you enough, or that you don’t feel loved enough, because you’re so perfect and such an amazing husband. You take care of me better than I ever wished for, and you’re always so understanding. Every second with you, I feel loved. And I truly hope you feel the same way too._

_For our second anniversary I really wanted to get you a meaningful gift. I have never felt a stronger urge to protect your happiness than when I saw your reaction to the adorable puppies we saw with Kylie and Leila. You looked so happy, Jinyoung ah, and my greatest wish is for you to stay happy for as long as you live. And so I decided to get Coco. She’s a lovely puppy and I’m certain you’ll love her._

_I’m sorry for making this decision on my own but honestly, for my own selfish reasons, I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to see your beautiful smile and hear your cries of joy when you see Coco, as you being happy makes me the most blessed man on earth. So forgive me. I will take care of her well so you don’t have to worry about her at all, and simply enjoy her company._

_I may not be the best at expressing my emotions with words, but I want you to know that everything I do is out of love for you. I apologise for the times I upset you, but you don’t have to worry, as I will only love you harder each day. I fell in love with you the first time we met. I love you now. And I will love you in the future, forever, even until the last moment of my death. If we meet in heaven, I will still love you. If we meet in our next lives, I will fall in love with you all over again._

_Park Jinyoung, I love you so, so much. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you for marrying me. Happy 2 nd Anniversary, my love. _

_xxx,_

_Mark_

Jinyoung only realised he was crying when a teardrop fell onto the card in his hands, to which he hurriedly wiped with his sleeve for fear that the ink would smudge. Briny tears dropped one after another, and soon a steady stream flowed it's way down his pale cheek, releasing the sorrow that had been held inside of him for all this time but still he did not make a sound. His complete focus was on the card, eyes still fixated on the handwritten words through his mask of tears.

 

It was all one big mishap. He was so close to slapping himself for misunderstanding Mark’s actions, but his hands were still shaking, unable to let go of his unheralded gift which made all his worries dissipate into thin air.

 

He still loved Mark, and Mark still loved him. That was all he needed to know. He was ready to go home now.

 

Jinyoung slipped on the jacket and zipped it up to his collar, engulfed in the intimate scent of Mark’s perfume and the feeling of affection from its warmth all at once. Gripping tightly onto the card as though it was a grenade, he hustled out of the guest room. _Packing can wait for another day._ For now, he yearned for nothing more than to be back home in person.

 

His sudden appearance earned him a judgmental stare from Jaebum, who was lazing on the couch watching the television. “Are you okay, Jinyoung?” he asked with all seriousness. “Why are you moving faster than a sloth? And why are you wearing a freaking jacket in this weather?”

 

“Hyung, I’m going out. Will come back tomorrow!” he rushed both his words and his pace, grabbing the key while wearing his shoes at the same time. “Don’t worry!” he added, ignoring the elder’s look of disbelief.

 

Jaebum scrambled to his feet, dropping the remote control and knocking his toe into the leg of the coffee table in his haste. “Ouch! _Ugh_ , stupid table!” he seethed. “W-wait Jinyoung! You’re acting weird, where are you going? Explain yourself!”

 

The agitated shouts unfortunately fell on deaf ears, as Jinyoung unlocked the door in a flash and barged out, ready to fly to the home he missed as soon the door swung open. Instead, he crashed, head first, into a familiar lean body.

 

“W-woah! Careful there!” the man chuckled and steadied him. Jinyoung froze, flabbergasted upon hearing the deep voice and rumbly laugh he was so used to hearing, that he missed so much. When he finally looked up, he was met with the face of the love of his life, his warm eyes with a tinge of sadness and apology, the corners of his mouth curled up so slightly into a faint smile. It took everything in him to refrain himself from grabbing his face by his cheeks and planting a big fat kiss on those pink lips.

 

“Mark–”

“Jinyoung ah–”

 

Their eyes met for the first time in weeks as they spoke at the same time, and Jinyoung was mesmerized. _How did he even live without looking into them for so long?_ His brown eyes were shiny with tears, and Jinyoung felt like he was falling into a deep pool of chocolate.

 

“I miss you,” they confessed simultaneously, in one voice. They both laughed at their undeniable chemistry, and then no other words were needed. Mark reached out and caressed Jinyoung’s hair, his fingers trembling slightly, while the latter watched his every action with quivering eyes. They were separated for so long, each touch now felt surreal like a dream.

 

When Mark finally pulled Jinyoung into a tight hug, he melted. It was a potpourri of different emotions, but each was better than the next, the wonderful concoction making him feel so blissful, protected and loved. It was the best feeling ever and he didn’t want to let go.

 

~~~~~

 

Mark had initially thought he was dreaming when Jinyoung appeared at the doorstep before he could even knock, but when he finally had him wrapped around his torso in his embrace, he knew he was finally freed from the curse of Murphy’s Law. He missed Jinyoung so much, and reality had never been sweeter.

 

“Jinyoungie,” Mark began, tightening his arms around the younger. “I’m sorry for neglecting you. I’m sorry for not noticing your feelings earlier. I just wanted you to relax and not feel stressed over Coco, that’s why–”

 

“I know,” Jinyoung cut off Mark’s apology, to his surprise. He leaned back slightly, while still holding onto Mark, to look at him. “I know everything now. Thank you. And I’m sorry for doubting your love for me. That’s such a stupid thing to do because I” – he blushed – “love you, and I know you love me as much, right?”

 

“Wrong,” Mark contradicted, but could hardly maintain his poker face as his facial muscles tremble in attempt to suppress the growing smile. When Jinyoung pouted, he lost it, bursting into a throaty laugh. “Wrong, because I love you _more._ ”

 

“Um guys,” Jaebum interrupted. “I’m still here? _Shoo!_ Go back to your love nest!” The reconciled lovers exchanged looks of amusement as Jaebum’s face crumpled in envied disgust.

 

Everything was back to before, except Mark and Jinyoung were now sure of one thing: their love stands strong and will transcend everything – time, distance, and even mortality.

 

~~~~~

 

_(Two years later…)_

“Mark! The dress!” Jinyoung hollered from the bathroom. His forehead was covered with a thin sheen of sweat and his hair was unglamorously matted to it. He was a mess; even his new outfit could not save his bearings as it was splattered with soapy water and foam.

 

Despite his painstaking efforts, he just couldn’t keep this wriggly little being still. “No, _sweetie_ , stop splashing. It’s time to get out of the shower!” he announced it like drying oneself was the most exciting thing ever, but to no avail. The toddler flashed a cheeky grin and let out a string of infectious giggles as she let herself fall into the water of the bathtub, creating a giant splash. The water droplets flew in the air dramatically in the shape of a fountain, before landing _splat_ on Jinyoung’s face.

 

“Kayla! You–” he growled but stopped before the words came out. He just could not get angry with his daughter. She was beyond lovely, chirpy and joyful with a heart much bigger than her tiny body. In Jinyoung’s eyes, she was the most beautiful being on earth (Mark didn’t even stand a chance). _How could anyone get mad at an adorable child as her?_

He let out a sigh but it morphed into a defeated laugh. He was supposed to shower and dress her to get her ready for her third birthday party, but she obviously had other plans. And as usual, he was a true blue daughter’s fool, a pushover when it came to her. _Forget the preparation, just, screw it._ “Come here, you little monkey!” he chuckled as he dived into the bathtub fully clothed, his brand-new shirt wrinkling up instantly. Kayla was clearly overjoyed, her delighted squeals echoing in the bathroom as Jinyoung blew bubbles against her bare belly.

 

“Oh. My. God.” Mark stood rooted to the floor with a miniature primrose pinafore dress in his hands. Seeing Kayla treat the bathtub as a water park was routine, but Jinyoung, a grown man? It was truly a sight to behold.

 

“I gave up on her,” Jinyoung explained amidst his giggles, which were soon muffled as Kayla was back to one of her favourite games, trying to see how many of her fingers she can wedge into his mouth. He ever entertained the thought that she might actually be the child of Jackson (with the number of flings he had one could never be sure) as she was so active like him, a ball of endless energy and hyperactivity, but he soon dismissed it. Jackson was not even ten percent as lovely as her.

 

People said love could never be bottled, but Jinyoung thought they were all wrong. Kayla was living proof. The way she smiled at others, showing off her little white teeth, and the way she was always reaching out for hugs – Kayla herself was love in a bottle.

 

She let Jinyoung know, undoubtedly, that the choice he made two years ago was right. It took him a lot of courage to open up to Mark, to let him know his wish of having a child with him. Back then he was still fretful of the elder’s reaction, but he worried for nothing. Mark was as elated as he was, thrilled to expand their family and before they knew it, one-year-old Kayla had become part of them.

 

“Okay my babies, the playground is closed!” Mark clapped his hands before carrying Kayla out of the bathtub, ignoring her attempts to escape as he dried her thoroughly with a clean towel. She was not pleased, her whines getting louder by the second, and Mark was visibly flustered. “Kayla, sweetie, we have to get changed,” he persuaded. “Uncle Jaebum and Youngjae are coming over soon!”

 

Kayla’s whines did not cease, but instead quickly intensified into loud wails. Mark tried to appease the little princess once more, his voice raising to a higher octave as he tried to sweet talk her. “Uncle Jackson will be here too! He’s your favourite uncle right? Kayla? He’ll only give you chocolates if you stop crying, sweetie.”

 

Mark was struggling, but his daughter was stubborn. It didn't even sound like she was pausing long enough to breathe. Surely she'd have to either stop or pass out soon, though he was more certain he would be the one to faint before either of that happened. He had already played all his cards, from favourite uncles to chocolates that she loved. _Why was it still not working?_

 

“Did you hear that?” Jinyoung exclaimed comically, pointing in the general direction of the living room. Mark furrowed his eyebrows, perplexed. _Hear what?_ Except for Kayla fussing, he could hear nothing else. “Kayla! Did you hear that?” Jinyoung repeated himself and their daughter’s cries amazingly mellowed out into sobs and then little sniffles, her attention completely drawn to him.

 

“Coco is calling you, Kayla! She wants to play with you but she says she’ll only see you if you wear your cute dress daddy is holding. Don’t you want to play with Coco?” Jinyoung proposed, and like a spellbinding magic trick she smiled and complied, slipping into her pinafore quickly with Mark’s help before scampering off on her tiny feet.

 

 _Incredible._ Mark gawked at Jinyoung, who winked at him in response, causing heat to creep up to his cheeks. It didn’t help that he felt utterly attacked by how sexy Jinyoung looked, his white shirt soaked and clinging onto his skin, giving him a spectacular view of his nicely sculpted body.

 

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at Mark’s rosy cheeks. How rare it was that he had Mark under his fingertips, hence he decided to tease him just _a bit_ more. Spreading his arms wide like he was inviting a hug, he popped the question. “Aren’t you going to clean up your other baby? _Daddy?_ ”

 

Mark choked on his spit at the same time as he widened his eyes, such that they almost leapt out of their sockets. He fiddled with his fingers, embarrassed while Jinyoung continued staring at him, watching the red burn his face and ears.

 

 _Ah, life works in wondrous ways._ Two years ago, he would never have thought he could tease Mark like that, but he was no longer obsessive of taking control in their relationship. While their love amongst many things stayed the same, several had also changed (such as the family hierarchy where Kayla, of course, sat on top of both their heads) and they both also matured: they communicated well, Mark being more sensitive of Jinyoung’s feelings and Jinyoung no longer insecure of his position in Mark’s life.

 

Having Kayla in their lives showed them the greatness of love. As parents, they both would move heaven and earth for their daughter if they had the power. Mark’s love was no longer solely Jinyoung’s, and vice-versa. However, they now understood that love is better when shared, and they were blessed to be able to love one another.

 

_Thank you, Kayla._

_Thank you, our daughter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, thank you all so so much for staying with me till the end. I know I haven't been updating quickly but that's because I wanted to make the chapters as intriguing and fun to read as possible. I really put in a ton of effort in this, spending hours brainstorming and researching for writing methods. At first I was quite skeptical of the plot but as I continued writing, it really grew on me. I hope you guys enjoyed it even if the plot was a bit cheesy, the characters a bit whiny etc. I've never been a natural writer, and sometimes a sentence can take 15 minutes. Tbh when I read through this particular work I wasn't very satisfied, as it felt like I was trying too hard... aka the flow isn't there. Please let me know if you have any feedback and I also accept prompts for ideas (but I only take them as reference). In any way, thank you once again for supporting me through this journey of writing. ♥

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! check out my other works xx


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